


the fox bride's conundrum

by talonyth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, kind of, youkai AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talonyth/pseuds/talonyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which kenma is a curious fox spirit and gets too close to humans for his own good</p>
            </blockquote>





	the fox bride's conundrum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahin/gifts).



> aaaaAAAA happy birthday sev!! my sunshine on rainy days and every day, actually! i haven't quite managed to finish this for your birthday but i hope you enjoy it regardless. knowing as you like both kuroken and natsume yuujinchou to death i thought i could kind of combine it to give you something you'd love twice as much!!
> 
> other than that, of course to everyone, i hope you will enjoy this as well! it goes along best with the ori and the blind forest soundtrack since i listened to it a lot while writing and planning so!

It drops to the floor with a thump and rolls away against the stump of a nearby tree. Thankfully not the one he is hiding behind. It would be too far away anyway. As it should be. Too far from them, too far from the human world.

The forest is within the human realm, Kenma knows, but it does not belong. He has heard humans walking into the woods calling it enchanted, cursed, sometimes haunted even. Many words of which none was really right and just. More than anything, it is a home to them, to his kind, a home the human world cannot offer them any longer.

Once, he used to be part of the human world. Once he used to walk on the same ground, with no boundaries. Seen by everyone, heard by everyone. Once, back in the days he cannot remember any longer. He wouldn't want to.

One of the children picks the ball up with a wild laughter and throws it back to the others. They seem to be having fun. They are always laughing when he sees them. Kenma doesn't watch them because he is yearning. He doesn't have anything better to do. He doesn't particularly care about the human world anymore.

There is no place for him in it, no matter how much he would bring himself to care.

Day after day, he catches himself going back to the edge of the forest, day after day watching the children in pain from falling, trying to catch the ball, watching them fight each other. Though most of the times, their faces are covered in smiles at the end of a day. Dirty and roughed up - but they look happy. Satisfied with how their days have been spent.

Even though Kenma knows he is not the only one of his kind living in the forest - by far not - he has never quite felt the same interest in them as in that group of children. It doesn't seem to matter to them whether the sun is shining or whether it is raining, whether it is cold or hot, windy or quiet. They keep on playing regardless and Kenma watches them. Every day, without fail.

Throughout the seasons, as they grow, they will eventually leave as well. It isn't the first time nor the last one he observes humans from afar. There is truly nothing better to do and hunting humans is too much effort. He'd rather be weak in comparison to the others of his kind than bring up the effort to actively lure humans into the forest. There is no need to. Power would do nothing for him.

Sometimes he considers taking a few steps closer. It's not like they could see him. The one time he tries, he feels like one of them - a particularly tenacious young boy, his name is Kuro or something like that is what his friends call him - notices him. For a split second, Kenma is certain their eyes meet, sharp brown eyes locked onto his.

It can't be. It's impossible. Humans don't see them. He repeats it endlessly as he flees back into the woods, not stopping until he is sure that the eyes on him are gone. He should not be scared. Humans can't see them. They can't. And even if they did--- but they can't.

And yet, even though he is far out of sight of that child, Kenma can feel his gaze burning, itching, scratching against his skin and it is the first time he doesn't return to the border of the forest for days.

-

With more care than before, he tiptoes around the bushes, cautious as to not make a single sound. Idiotic. He knows no one can see him nor hear him - but what if?

What if that Kuro kid did see him? Would he look out for him now? Would he try to find him in the forest? No, of course not. As humans are, Kuro probably thinks he imagined it. Calling it a fleeting vision, due to the heat or dehydration or... whatever humans worry about. It is none of his business. _They_ are none of his business.

He peeks from behind a tree, much older than him, Kenma is sure, bark pleasantly thick and coarse under his fingertips. It calms him down, running his hands over the bark of old trees. It sometimes feels like they are soothing him, wordlessly yet their presence, so ancient, so wise, it makes him feel small in comparison. Small _but safe_.

There they are again. The same children, the same ball, the same weird movements of jumping and throwing themselves on the floor to catch the balls. One of them is slightly taller looking, Kenma recalls his name to be Yaku. Over the time Kenma has been watching, he has noticed that Yaku is the one who is considerate and takes care of the others when they are hurt. He doesn't think he's ever had a friend like that, even when he used to be human.

It would have surely been nice.

"Kai, you gotta head home early today, yeah?"

That is Kuro speaking. His hair is looking as weird as usual. It makes Kenma wonder whether it simply looks like that or whether he wants it to. Perhaps it is a mix of both?

"Mhm," Kai replies. From Kenma's experience, he is a very quiet child. He likes watching him. His movements are precise, sometimes a little slow but it has gotten better over the time. "I have to run an errand for Mum."

"Then this'll be the last try? Eh, too bad."

"We'll come back tomorrow," Yaku retorts and slaps Kuro's back. Ah. That seemed rather rough. They do this a lot, though. Whenever they do well. Or not so well.

They get into their positions and Kenma still doesn't understand the point of this game. Or whether they are playing at all. From what he has heard, all they are doing is practice but... what for?

It happens quicker than Kenma's eyes can follow, Kuro does a weird jump and slams the ball out of his hands and Yaku tries to catch it with his wrists but it flies into a direction none of them anticipated. Not even Kenma. 

He holds his breath when it rolls right in front of his feet. There is nothing he would need to worry about. Nothing. They can't see him. They can't hear him. ....He wouldn't be able to give it back to them. What will they do without it? There is no way they could practice more. They won't come back either. Then what?

Others will come and use this spot for something else, as always. But will their practice pay off? Have they just been doing it for fun? Do they want to go somewhere with that? There are so many things Kenma would like to ask.

But he knows he never will. Even if the ball is touching the tips of his toes, even if he picks it up and brings it back, they won't see him.

 _It's for the better, you don't belong there with them._ But sometimes, rarely, almost never, in moments like these, he wishes he would.

"Hey, you. Can you give me that ball back?"

Kenma freezes. He has heard this voice before. But never quite as close. Never quite as clear. He isn't talking to him. It can't be. He hears leaves rustling, branches cracking, birds screaming somewhere far away within the woods, and glances to his right out the corner of his eyes.

Kuro is looking at him, straight at him, nowhere else. There isn't any of the other two around either he could have asked. It's impossible. Humans can't see. Humans can't hear. Humans don't know. Shouldn't know.

He raises an eyebrow as he speaks up again, "Hey, uh. Please give me that ball back? It's right at your feet? And I can't come closer than this."

Kuro gestures towards the small slips of paper stuck to the trees. Kenma knows he can't go out farther than that either. If he doesn't want to fade, that is. Those are his boundaries. And those are Kuro's too. They aren't as different, yet---

He averts his eyes as he takes the ball into his hands. He could ask. Kuro seems to see him. Maybe he can hear him as well. Maybe he could, just for a second---

"Whoa.... you are one of them, aren't you?" Kuro suddenly says, awe thickening his voice like honey. "A youkai... right?"

Kenma isn't usually quick on his feet. He could be, with some effort but he doesn't see a reason to run. Doesn't see a reason to flee. He doesn't do anything to aggravate any of his own kind. He just wants to live in peace. There is no need for him to be afraid. Humans are weaker than him.

He can't explain to himself a bit later why and when his legs carried him so far into the forest for him to realize it has gotten night already. He clutches onto the ball in his hands and feels like screaming.

He has never wished to be able to turn the time back more than now. Perhaps even to the time when he still used to be human.

-

"That is a wonderous object you hold in hands," Akaashi notes, tone quiet and composed and gestures at the ball in Kenma's hands. There has never been a time Kenma has not enjoyed his presence. He is one of the few, if not the only one, whose company he likes to have. Kenma doesn't dislike the others of his kind - but their mindset and his never overlap. They never seem to be in sync. "Have you taken it from a human?"

"No." Kenma turns it in his hands, palms feeling slick against the leathery surface of the ball. It has deflated quite a bit, giving in with every slightest pressure.

"Oh?" Akaashi's wings flutter. A pleasant sound. "Then how? It is a human's or not?"

Kenma nods and thinks of Kuro. Did he find another thing to play with? He hasn't been at the forest's edge in a while. "I... picked it up."

"They lost it?"

"Sort of."

Akaashi slides off the branch he was sitting on and gracefully lands next to Kenma, leaning against the tree. He is used to Akaashi sitting right above him, just listening to his movements rather than watch him. His eyes tire fast from watching his own kind - but never when he watches humans. Never once.

"Do you have a reason to keep it? Taken a liking to it?"

Kenma breathes out and feels Akaashi's wings grazing his back slightly when he folds them onto his back to sit more comfortably next to him. It's barely hot anymore - fall has set in quickly this year.

"No. That's not it."

 _I want to give it back_. It lurks on his lips, on his tongue, it make his skin burn and his ears shake, freeze, all at once.

"Kenma."

He looks up to find Akaashi smiling at him wryly.

"Do not go out too far. Their world is not for us any longer."

"...I know."

He presses the ball against his chest and closes his eyes, listening to Akaashi humming a melody that makes him feel nostalgic.

He knows that Akaashi understands him best. No one else would sing a human lullaby to him rather than one of their own. The human world is not for them any longer - but not being part of it doesn't mean they don't wish to be.

-

There is a smell all too familiar in Kenma's nose although he can't pinpoint what it is. He follows the traces of the scent into the deeper parts of the forest, a part not even he dares to trespass. Not usually. Not willingly. His ears pick up a sound that resembles a soft sobbing and he freezes on spot. 

A lost child. Certainly. There is a reason he never goes into this part of the woods. It is territory to one of their kind, more dangerous and powerful than all else together. Not malicious, never towards their own - but humans are a lost cause once they have fallen into his trap. But should one of them try to take away his prey, he is unforgiving.

Kenma knows of many who tried but never got out without being at least blemished and banned. Usually they were driven out though, driven to the borders, forced to pass and vanish. Oikawa can be as gentle as he can be ruthless, kind but merciless if provoked, certainly the strongest among them and those who don't know learn quickly.

Unlike others, Kenma isn't afraid of him. He has never given Oikawa a reason to distrust him, to doubt him or to anger him. Never went into his territory, never stole his prey, never talked to him unless necessary. He isn't scary but Kenma never wanted to find out how it would feel like to be frightened of him either. If there is something he excels in, it is being inconspicuous. Almost... non-existent, even to his own kind.

He prefers the silence.

And so, he listens quietly. To the sobs of a child lost in the forest and his consciousness telling him to leave it be. This is none of his concern. None of his business. He should not care. Should not dare to step any closer. Even if the child would not see him, it might sense him. _He_ might sense him, think he wants to take away what is his---

His insides have never been bubbling, twisting, aching so badly as when he lays his eyes on the crying child. A familiar scent, a familiar posture and way of wearing his hair. Black, almost one with the darkness surrounding him. His shoulders, his body, all shaking as he crouches on the floor.

Kuro always seemed like a brave child. A backbone of steel for a kid that is probably not even ten years old. He had something about him that felt reassuring. Even though Kenma never talked to him, he felt like Kuro was the type of person who couldn't easily be bent.

But he forgets, ever so often, that he is just a child. One that is lost, doesn't find its way back home, engulfed by a darkness not even the sun could seemingly intrude. Is there any way to reach out to him...? Any way to take the fear away? To make him... trust?

His fingers rub frantically over the worn out leather of the ball he had never returned to Kuro. Kenma takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. For a second, two, three, there are no sounds and no thoughts, no worries and no fear.

He doesn't want Kuro to find his end here. There is no reason for him to. His life, it is filled with happiness outside of the borders of this forest. Kenma shouldn't care. Shouldn't dare. But he takes a step onto the small glade void of light Kuroo sits on as he changes shape.

There is not much Kenma can do. He is nothing but a lesser spirit with no other power than disguising himself to keep enemies away. But perhaps this is what might help him and Kuro. Paws touch the ground and he can't remember the last time he has been walking within the forest as a fox. He never needed to. Until now.

He dashes towards the boy who looks up, startled and terrified until Kenma pushes the ball, once belonging to Kuro, into his direction, waiting for his reaction. He doesn't move at first until Kenma gives it another nudge, eyes looking up to see Kuro relax slightly and opening his mouth. There are no words coming out at first, only gasps for air he seems to be lacking.

"A-Are y-you... the one from b-back then?"

Kenma almost replies, only a yipping coming out of his throat. Oh. He forgot. Well. He takes a step, two steps closer towards Kuro, nuzzling his arm with his nose. Kuro snorts and rubs his eyes.

"It's you, right?"

Their eyes lock and this time, Kenma doesn't look away. And finds Kuro's eyes to lighten up the second he realizes. As if they'd known forever when they never even properly talked. When Kuro never knew that he existed - and shouldn't. As Kenma shouldn't be here. Perhaps he can get Kuro away without being noticed.

Yet still, he gives the boy a moment to recover, to indulge himself and hug him even though he has never liked this type of physical contact too much. Oddly, when it happens, he doesn't mind it quite as much. Kuro is warm and feeling him relax with every second that passes gives Kenma a better feeling than he admits.

For once, he has been seen. He has been noticed and he has made someone smile genuinely. Kenma is aware he shouldn't yearn for this to last longer, forever, even and yet---

Shudders run down his back and there is a sudden fall in temperature. _It is too late_. They have been noticed. He has been noticed. But there is still a chance, somehow. There is a part even Oikawa cannot pass.

Kenma takes forever to decide what to do. Not because he can't but because it's a bother. He usually takes the easiest way out of a situation.

But in this case, there is no easy way and even less a right way. Saving Kuro means leaving himself aside and hurting Oikawa but letting Kuro die and starve here when he has a life out there ahead of him unlike----

Unlike himself. But what is he remembering?

He prods Kuro's shoulder with his nose and nods towards the direction he came from, shaking his hands off of him. It feels lonely, all of a sudden.

"Huh? A-Are you going... to show me the way out?"

Kenma turns around and again means to open his mouth but closes it right after. Even if he could speak in this form, at this point, what would he say? Has he ever been able to change something, anything at all?

He never tried to. Not that he could remember. Oddly, now that he does, he feels no regret. Perhaps he is of a more curious nature than he gives himself credit for. There is something inside of him, stirred up and burning, ablaze to make a difference - not in his life but very well in Kuro's. Saving him of a fate that would not suit him at all.

Kuro is not supposed to die. Not here, not yet.

He simply nods and the boy's face lightens up in an instance as he sees Kenma's reply. Kuro reaches out for the ball right in front of him, presses it to his chest and clumsily gets up from the ground he's been sitting on. He's covered in dirt and mud, his clothes stained and ripped and yet he doesn't look quite as lost as before any longer.

Right back to the form Kenma has always seen of him - eager and strong, adventurous and brave, it eases Kenma's mind for the upcoming way. He wouldn't have known how to deal with a scared child. Kuro flashes a grin even though his eyes are puffed up and red and runs up to Kenma's side in the span of a second. His hand finds its way back on Kenma's head, stroking it lightly.

"Thanks for always watching over me," he whispers as he bows down, wrapping his arms around Kenma's slender neck, nuzzling his cheek against Kenma's soft fur. As if it were the most natural thing to say and do. 

Did he... notice? Did he know? That Kenma has always been there? Hiding, never showing himself even if he weren't to be seen either way and yet...? Did Kuro know?

Kenma's ears twitch upon hearing the covert crack, break under the weight of someone drawing closer. He nudges Kuro's cheek and wriggles free from his embrace, padding into the direction he wants Kuro to follow him. The boy seems to want to ask but he decides to stay quiet - thankfully - and moves.

It could very well be that nothing happens. That he can bring Kuro to the border before Oikawa notices. Perhaps even before Oikawa knows it was him bringing Kuro away. Wouldn't that be too ideal?

With every step he takes, he listens whether Kuro still follows, his footsteps as light as his own, barely audible in the wide forest. They might be from different worlds, none belonging to the other and yet, they are both so small compared to the forest - compared to the entire world, they are just tiny dots, hardly meaning anything to such a big complex.

The temperature, it sinks constantly and Kenma finds himself freezing, shaking despite thick fur covering him and keeping him safe of what the woods have in stock for intruders. His heart pounds with every paw he sets in front of the other, his eyes always roaming behind him to see, is he, is Kuro still following?

He is despite seeming out of breath already. Kenma hasn't realized he has set a fast pace - he _never_ does.

For the first time, he realizes what it feels like to be scared of your own kind. Of what they are capable of doing. And for the first time he wishes he could be stronger. Should anything happen... what could he do? What could he change? Could he still help Kuro or would it be over? Is... all he _can_ do run away and hide?

It's been comfortable so far, no question about it. A life in peace, in harmony with those around him yet---

Kenma freezes when he hears a thumping, loud and clear, claws dragged against the thick bark of the trees around them. _Too late_. Kenma yaps once for Kuro to look at him and follow him, on a different route, on a different way. It is slightly more dangerous but very certainly not more life-threatening than a rabid forest spirit after realizing their prey has been stolen.

Kuro's breath is running short, that Kenma can hear and so is his own. Already. It's continuously growing colder, piercing through his fur into his skin and he can hear Kuro stopping, exhaling heavily.

"It's cold..."

 _I know that_ , Kenma thinks and curses the fact he cannot speak in his animal form. Yet if he were to turn back into a human form... Kuro would surely not be as trusting and his own legs wouldn't carry him far enough. If only he were stronger---

There is a loud crash, wood hitting the ground, heavy footsteps, they are coming closer by every second. Kenma runs to Kuro's side, pushing him from behind to go farther, to keep on running before they get caught, before he catches up and---

"Of all spirits, Kenma-chan, of all of them, I trusted you the most to stay nice and quiet, to never touch what is _mine_. Don't you know that stealing someone else's prey is disrespectful?"

Kuro yelps at the sound of a voice, cold as the air around them, menacing, _threatening_. How far is the exit? How much more can Kuro run? What obstacles are there? A river, small, can be crossed quickly, rocks making it easy to get to the other side. Several traps set by others of his kind to trap humans - but he knows where they are.

The footsteps are slow - Oikawa is heavy but Kenma knows he could chase them in no time. Despite his weight, his legs carry him quickly so then... why...? But it gives them time. He sinks his teeth into the fabric of Kuro's shorts and pulls on it, the boy huffing and taking two steps with an exasperated sigh. "W-What was that?"

"Do you." It's but a whisper and it freezes every ounce of blood Kenma feels like he has still left in his body. And it draws closer still. Slowly. "Mean." Hooves padding on the ground but there is nothing he is able to see and consequently, nothing Kuro could see despite him looking around frantically, _there is no one for them to spot_. "Me."

And yet there is. Right behind them. There is not even time for Kuro to scream.

At the speed of light, Oikawa gets hold of his arm and yanks him away with a force Kenma couldn't have anticipated, still biting onto Kuro's shorts tightly and being pulled along with him.

Why? How? _When?_

Kenma can't hold onto the fabric any longer, letting go of it and dropping to the floor with more force than he expected. He can hear Oikawa withdrawing - tap, tap, tap, the branches under his hooves crack as he accelerates and without a single thought, Kenma jumps up his legs and sinks his teeth into it.

He has never once made use of the fact that he could hunt. Never found it necessary to. He doesn't have to eat any longer - he would only draw his power from the souls left behind. And power is something he never yearned for - never more than now.

Kuro's yells and shouts are drowned by the thicket around them and Kenma knows, there is no one who would intervene. Everyone living in this forest would know not to pick a fight with Oikawa. He does as well. And Kenma feels like he doesn't understand himself quite as well as he used to anymore.

In response to Kenma's bite, Oikawa simply shakes him off, inhaling sharply and kicking him onto the ground while trying to avoid Kuro's futile attempts of breaking free from his grip. "Don't make me hurt you, Kenma-chan."

It hurts. It hurts terribly as he tries to get up, levering himself back up onto his legs to hiss at Oikawa. Why...? Out of pure self-satisfaction? Of valid emotions? Or invalid ones?

He thanked him earlier, Kuro, he thanked him for looking out for him even though that was not the case at all. It was pure chance he found him, following his nose rather than his eyes - he'd _left_ Kuro, never giving back what once was his and yet that boy, he still thanked him.

If there is a chance for him to change something - anything at all - then this is it. Perhaps even becoming the one Kuro has seen in him. For once, hiding and running isn't an option Kenma considers in the slightest.

And Oikawa seems to realize. He narrows his eyes and a face usually covered by a smile Kenma can never categorize is still as stone. Kuro's screams don't seem to bother him, nor how the boy tries to bite him in order for him to let go. His eyes lock onto Kenma's and they _stare_.

It terrifies him. Kenma is aware he is not even half as strong as Oikawa is. And yet he finds himself staring back into stern and strong eyes as he exhales and leaps at Oikawa's arm, tackling it with the entire force Kenma can still bring up.

Oikawa grabs him out of the air, he can feel his own bones cracking and _it hurts_ but in a second of diverted attention, Kuro manages to scratch over Oikawa's arm so harshly that Kenma can only hear a yell, a thump, scurrying footsteps into the direction him and Kuro were headed.

Oikawa reaches out, grabs Kuro at his arm once more, and in a meager attempt Kenma tries to find the rest of the strength left in his body, throwing himself against Oikawa's stretched out arm - there is another scream, breaking at the end in awful pain. But it is not Oikawa.

No noise, it's absolute silence in Kenma's ears. Like a record cut off.

He doesn't remember any longer when he turned back into his human form. Can't recall how he could muster up the strength to grab Kuro, carry the boy and run, faster, quicker than he ever ran before. Not minding the pain, nor the terrible noises, Oikawa's claws scratching against rocks and bark, ground and water.

There is no wound on Kuro, no blood - it's something worse yet. He holds onto his arm, covered in black marks, trembling enough for Kenma to notice it even though he is in motion.

The river. It gives him time. Oikawa has to find another route to cross it, impossible for him to use the way they do because of his legs. ...It's much more alarming when Kenma can't see him. He can't even feel him. There is no trace of Oikawa but the cold air around him.

He is still there. Kenma knows. And yet, and yet---

He jumps over the rocks of the river, step by step, looking out of the corners of his eyes at Kuro. He never seemed as small as he feels in his arms, curled up, tense and shaking relentlessly. All the light in his face from earlier had disappeared and it makes Kenma's heart hurt.

The river is far behind them, the exit almost visible, those particular trees with paper slips on them, Kenma would recognize them from farther away even when the sound of hooves draws closer yet again. He takes a deep breath in and stops, looks at Kuro and he realizes it is the first time their eyes meet and he doesn't break the eye contact. 

He looks so tired, so helpless, hasn't said a single word ever since Kenma's turned back into his human form again - but he knows this isn't mistrust. It's fear. Not of him. But of what is to come. Kenma can't imagine what Kuro has seen when Oikawa blemished him and he is certain Kuro wouldn't dare to repeat it even if the marks on his arms will always remind him. Unless...

Kenma closes his eyes and crouches, arms tightly wrapped around Kuro. His heartbeat, his breath, it's quick, loud and still _so alive_. There has never been much he could do. Never much he truly wanted to do. He lived his life as a forest spirit probably as he lived it as a human - watching from afar, never getting too involved.

A rhythmical thumping comes closer. He isn't far away. But he will still not get his hands on Kuro. Kenma would have never called himself stubborn. But perhaps he should have been. Perhaps then he would have never felt as expendable, never went this way. Yet now, he wouldn't want to have it another way.

He presses his lips against Kuro's forehead and feels him relax against the touch. A blemish wouldn't suit someone as bright and strong as him. It much rather makes sense on someone like himself rather than on Kuro. A reminder for how much of a coward he has been - even if he found someone to bring out something else out of him. 

Kuro can't possibly know that, among all humans Kenma has watched over his lifetime, he's been his favourite. With his strength and not quite as cool as he pretended to be demeanor. He would probably only get worse the older he'd get. Kenma never quite felt fun to be as contagious as it was watching Kuro laughing with his friends. ...Never quit felt as regretful he couldn't join. He wonders if he could have been friends with them as well if he were human. Would he have been able to speak up? To be understood by them as well?

His skin pricks as he hears Kuro breathe in sharply, in awe and even if the situation was dire, threatening, Kenma feels strangely at peace. It burns, taking away someone else's blemish, it itches, scratches from under your skin, it makes you feel sick - and Kenma never minded anything less. 

He doesn't see what Kuro has seen. But the blemish wakes up memories that should have never been dug up. Never. Yet still, as painful as it should be, remembering he was left in the forest because he was too quiet, too scary for his parents, never laughed and never smiled - had they never wondered they failed to make him happy? 

Perhaps it is better like this then. Perhaps the curse to live on inside the forest hasn't been as much of a curse after all. Rather knowing happiness and peace late than never.

As he opens his eyes, Kuro gazes first at him, then down to his arm and right back at him. For someone usually so noisy, he has kept quiet for too long. 

"Y-You... Your face... this..."

"Don't come back here," Kenma says silently as he sets Kuro back onto the floor. "Don't ever return or come near here anymore."

Kuro's eyes widen, legs trembling still although he stands on his own without needing support. "W-What?"

"If you come back here, I will eat you. So leave."

"You won't."

"I will."

" _That thing_ will. That deer person."

"If you know, then leave."

Kuro looks down to the ground and shortly up to Kenma again, sheepishly. "Never?"

Kenma can't grasp why it strains him as much to reply. "Never."

"We never got to play together. I know you wanted to."

"I didn't. Now leave."

"But you were always there. You should have said something."

 _You wouldn't have heard_. Kenma would usually reply that. But it's not true. He figures Kuro would've. Even like this. Even though he is...

The thumps, they aren't far away, so Kenma gives Kuro a push and shakes his head. "I wasn't always there. Now go. Leave."

Kuro turns around, looking at Kenma as if he were reluctant to go when this forest has brought him nothing but problems so far. Why would he not want to leave? He lifts his hand and waves slightly.

Kenma does wave back. But long after he can't see Kuro anymore. And he knows, Oikawa is standing right behind him, has been standing there for a while simply watching them. No matter what Oikawa would ask, there would be no answers for him. Not because Kenma wouldn't want to know for himself why he did what he did.

"Do you remember?"

He did expect that question. Kenma doesn't turn around, instead lifts his hand to the left side of his face and flinches. It's spread there, over his cheek. He wonders how many will avoid him now. Even more than before, he might become entirely non-existent. What about Akaashi? Would he still...?

"Are you happy?"

"I don't know," Kenma replies truthfully.

"Humans bring nothing but pain. Especially those like him. Those who can see and hear, they tempt us. They remind us. They make us yearn for what we can no longer have."

Ah. So that was the reason for Oikawa to choose Kuro. Even though he was nothing like one of those children who needed a place to be - even if they had to die in order to belong... suddenly it makes more sense. A small smile spreads on Kenma's lips. Oikawa is much kinder than his actions suggest but Kenma is aware Oikawa's priority at all times is never slaughter nor hunting for fun or food he would not need anyway - it is to nurture the forest and keep it safe. No matter what it takes.

"Thank you, Oikawa-san. For wanting to protect me from yearning."

"I was late," he simply says with a sigh, disappointed in himself, probably. "And I hurt you in the process as well."

"It might have hurt more... if I would have let you do as you pleased. I, too, am a spirit. And I can apparently take more than I expected."

There is a chuckle right next to him though Kenma isn't surprised in the slightest. He didn't see nor feel Oikawa shuffling closer to him but by intuition he felt like Oikawa would do so eventually. He sinks down, heavy thump as he positions himself and it makes Kenma realize just how tall and grand he is. ...It might just be the antlers though.

"Much more than _I_ expected as well. You can be tenacious if you want to be. Did that human teach you to be?"

Kenma presses his lips together. There is only one reply he could possibly give.

"Somehow, he seems to have managed."

-

The seasons flew by quicker than Kenma could count. He hasn't seen Kuro nor his friends at their usual spot ever since that incident happened. Well, he did seem like the kind of person not to break promises. Even if they never promised in the first place but Kenma feels like he had given his words enough strength that day to make Kuro understand.

He never did that sort of thing again. Never defied Oikawa, never fought one of his kind, never got too close to humans either. He returned to his old life, just as before (perhaps with more pestering from Oikawa's side who had taken a liking to him). It almost seems, at times, that day never existed in the first place.

But it did. Kenma remembers. His skin does. It still pricks sometimes. Oikawa starts to apologize sometimes but Kenma doesn't wish to hear any of that. It's weird how he used to think of him as cruel. Still not someone he can easily converse with but... not as frightening as he deemed him to be. The blemish, it reminds him of the coward he once was and might still be. And yet it also reminds him that there has been a time he had been brave as well. That he _can_ be when he needs to be.

He wonders if Kuro still remembers too. Perhaps not. Human children tend to forget with the time. He might think it was just a dream. A fleeting vision. As always. He probably doesn't even remember him. It'd be for the best like that.

His eyes are closed when he hears the bushes rustling, something hitting his leg. What a disturbance. One lid flaps open, peeking at what it was that bumped into him - and finds it is a very familiar looking object. A ball made of leather, blue and yellow. Except it is bigger than the one he saw years ago.

He reaches out for it, tips of his finger touching it when another hand joins in to do the same. Kenma follows the hand up the arm past the shoulder to look into a face he doesn't recognize at first if it weren't for the hair and the way he smiles, thinking it is a cool smirk when it's somehow... crooked and clumsy. Just like when he was younger.

"There you are, my fox bride. I was hoping you were still here."

Kenma pulls his hand back and presses his lips together, averting his eyes. What sort of ridiculous nickname was that? "...I told you I would eat you if you come back."

"I know. But I guess I'm having a rebellious phase. Or... I just wanted to see you."

He dares to take a short glance at the expression on Kuro's face and regrets it right away. It's so earnest, that smile. He... looks much older than before, of course he does. Grown-up and mature yet... a smile never really changes. And neither have Kenma's feelings over the years. Yearning, longing, it all comes back to him again.

"Even if you would eat me, I'd mind it a lot less than you might think. After all, without you... I wouldn't even be here in the first place anymore."

Kenma looks back up and--- he remembers. Kuro still does. Without him, Kuro wouldn't crouch there, wouldn't smile either anymore. He... changed something by saving him. It changed everything even if things had gone back to the same for him but for Kuro... there might have never been a way back.

"So. Don't you think, now that I'm not a wimpy crying kid anymore you can carry that easily, we could introduce ourselves to each other? I could also keep on calling you fox bride but you didn't seem as amused. ...I'm Kuroo, so you can't even say I didn't say my name first."

Kenma takes a while to reply, fingers kneading the fabric of his cloak, ears and tail tensing up at every tiniest sound in his surroundings. Yearning, longing to be one of them. A human. So he could spend time with him as well. But he realizes he doesn't have to be. Because Kuro sees and Kuro hears and changed everything for Kenma without even speaking to him. And he did as well. 

Their lives were already entwined. From the start, they might have been.

"Kenma. ...I’m Kenma," he says.

He has no words for Kuro's expression other than he looks happy - and that is the first time Kenma thinks he might be as well. Not content, not okay but truly, genuinely happy.

**Author's Note:**

> the true mystery is why oikawa has suddenly become a minodeer or how am i supposed to call that when that's not even a proper youkai form but this just happened as i was typing
> 
> i couldn't be more satisfied, put antlers on all hqs and i'll be happy, also what if i tell you kenma's blemish on his face looks like a black heart (drops mic) now i'm outtie
> 
> oh no wait. the paper slips at the trees aren't actually fending off youkai. they are just the set border both humans and youkai alike keep and never trespass. unless your name is kuroo tetsurou and you want your fox bride back. okay but now i'm outtie


End file.
